In Your Honour
by Revv
Summary: Post-S6. It had come down to Dean and Castiel, one-on-one. Character Death.


Spoilers… for the end of season 6 and like… everything?

Um, technically this is my first finished story, like ever, so go easy yeah? This wouldn't have been possible without a good friend of mine, she's my muse, I love her (omg mush), so salute to you, you know who you are. I was apprehensive about posting this so hopefully someone will enjoy it. I'm a major sucker for depressing sad things so… here goes nothing. I'd love you forever if you told me what you thought. Any plot discrepancies and inconsistencies and whatnot are my mistake, I actually haven't seen all of the show (it scares the crap out of me, I have issues, I'm working up the courage to watch every last bit of it, trust me, Dean is a big encouragement).

As always, everything Supernatural isn't mine, this was written purely for amusement (my own and yours), I'll put Dean back in his box where I didn't do mean things to him.

This is a hypothetical end to season seven/everything I guess?

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><p>In the end Bobby and Sam were dead, everyone was gone, and Dean was alone. It had come down to him and Castiel, one-on-one. Really, it was meant to be, but not before the power-corrupt angel had brought about the literal end of the world. He'd got it in his head to create a new Earth; a better one. He would succeed where God, the God whom he had worshiped and placed so much faith in, had failed. He would care about his creations, guide them, he would never lose interest. Despite Castiel's wishes Dean had to stop him, how could he not? Letting the Angel—or rather, new God—do what he wanted meant the deaths of billions of lives, it was down to him and him alone, and he had vowed to stop Castiel, his brother—so he did.<p>

Perhaps Dean Winchester was the only one who could have. He had the unique experience of spending forty years in hell, breaking the first seal, _and_ bringing about an Apocalypse. Of course, that was in the past now but the point was, Dean was dead. Not literally, no, his heart was very much still beating, but his soul, who he _was_, had ceased to exist the moment the true Castiel had raised him from perdition. He had been a dead man walking for a long time, a gaping void, a deep and bottomless hole.

Perhaps it was fate that he'd ended up that way. It was because of this he was able to stop Cas. After a brutal battle Dean had taken the souls from Castiel into himself; after all, he had plenty of room. As far as he was concerned, things were far less cramped in a vessel with a dead soul than an Angel and all its damn holiness. He was fine with it, actually fine with housing the grand total population of purgatory because honestly, they filled something in him. The millions upon million of souls couldn't drive him insane with their chatter like they did Cas: there was nothing left_ to_ drive insane.

Having all that power, Dean knew what he needed to do. He put things right. Everything he had ever done had been for family, it was his one priority in life and the one thing he cared about. His own existence had never even entered into the equation and this time was no exception. His first act was putting the world back the way that it had been—he made people whole again, gave Castiel back himself. But he didn't end it there. After all, he had the power to do whatever he wanted, even if it was frying his insides.

John, Mary, Jessica, Samuel, Deanna, Adam, Jimmy… anyone, _everyone_ who he had never been able to save and even those he had but were traumatised were made right again, given their lives back, their family. No demon, ghost, or supernatural _anything_ would touch their lives for as long as they lived. He fixed Sam, fixed Mary and John. Sam had grown up normally, he'd been able to go to college with the happy blessings of his parents, there he met Jessica and the two were married and expecting their first child, a boy, all before Sam had finished becoming a lawyer (but Sammy _was_ becoming a lawyer and he was damn good at it, almost too good).

Castiel was an angel again and had his place in heaven, doing whatever it was that dicks with wings did all day. Bobby had his wife; they had a happy life together. Everything was as it should have been, before the pain and heartache, before all of the death and destruction. Dean had personally destroyed Azazel before the yellow-eyed son of a bitch had touched any children and devastated families. Sam had never been given demon blood and Mary had never been burnt to death on the ceiling of the family home. The house still stood and Mary and John still happily lived in it. Sam had a good childhood there; he had been the Winchester's only son.

In the end, Dean didn't have enough energy, the heart, or belief in who he was as a person to slot a new version of himself into the reality he had created. Things had obviously worked out just fine without him. Dean wasn't even sure why he hadn't faded from existence when he cancelled out his own birth, but attributed it to left over power, or maybe a cosmic joke, a paradox—that was rich. He had given purgatory back its souls and closed the door while taking precautions to make sure no one would try anything like opening up other dimensions again. If they did, it wouldn't be his problem or Sam's; someone else could deal with it.

Everything that he ever was had been utterly drained by his actions, and with a last bit of effort he'd managed to plant himself in a back alley god knew where. It was damp and quiet, a good place to die in peace, a death he felt he deserved. Dean Winchester no longer existed; Dean Winchester had died so long ago, when hellhounds came to collect him on that fateful day in May. Not even the horsemen of the Apocalypse in all their power could affect him he was so _utterly_ dead.

Now he could finally let go; attain that elusive peace he had been seeking for what felt like an uncomfortable eternity. Dean let his head fall back to rest on the brick behind him while clutching the amulet his brother had given him protectively; he just wanted it to be over. In the end he couldn't bring himself to erase it from existence, there was a time when it meant the absolute world to him, and by God he was holding onto that with all he had left despite having thrown it away. As if by some small miracle, or annoyance, depending on how you looked at it, it began to rain. Dean couldn't help a small smile, he liked rain; of course he liked it better when he wasn't in it but still. He stared out at nothing and waited, he wouldn't have to wait long; he could feel himself dying. Fate however offered one last annoyance, an amusing one at the very least.

Another body joined him in alley, a male. His footsteps became louder as he approached; clearly not noticing anyone else was there and busy trying to die in peace. Through the rain and steam Dean could see he was a brunet but little else. The man stumbled and fell and then finally noticed he wasn't alone. He gasped and backed away, covering his hands with his mouth, his eyes wide with shock.

"Oh my God! Are you okay?" He tentatively re-approached Dean then, his hand outstretched in an unconscious attempt at comfort. He had never seen so much blood in his life. Dean didn't bother answering him, at first he didn't even bother _looking_ at him, but when he finally did, he took a double take.

"Ca–Jimmy?" He choked out, confused and unbelieving.

"What?" Jimmy gasped. "Never mind, I'm ringing an ambulance; you're covered in blood…" He backed off then, flipping out his phone and calling for paramedics.

Dean looked down at himself and noticed for the first time that he was indeed covered in blood-a mass of it—his own. Strange because he wasn't in any pain and couldn't feel any wounds but didn't bother to question it, attributed it to that whole 'not existing yet still here' thing.

"The ambulance will be here in fifteen, hold on." Jimmy announced, removing his trench coat and placing it over Dean. "What happened to you?" he asked; without an angel around to screw his life over he really was a kind person.

"Doesn't matter." Dean shook his head. He couldn't help but run his fingers over the coat absentmindedly, his thoughts momentarily drifting to Castiel.

"Doesn't matter?" Jimmy looked at him strangely then shook his head. "Of course it matters!" However, Dean said nothing in return so the salesman simply changed the subject. "I'm Jimmy Novak."

"Dean." He breathed quietly. He really didn't want to die in Cas—Jimmy's arms, or anywhere near him for that matter, Jimmy had a normal life now. He had a _normal life_, a wife who loved him and a daughter; he went to church and prayed to God. He didn't need the death of a random guy he'd never known haunting him. Dean tried to stand, he really did but all he could manage to do was half topple over onto Jimmy, who caught Dean and inadvertently ended up cradling him in his arms.

"Hey, stay with me." He pleaded.

"Sorry." Dean mumbled.

"What for?"

"Everything." Dean was staring out past Jimmy as if he wasn't even there.

"You don't even know me." Jimmy chuckled through tears. He wasn't even sure why he was crying, but then again he was holding a person covered in blood.

"What are you even doing here, in a back alley in the rain, holding a strange dying man anyway?" Dean asked, curious more than anything.

"I got lost." He admitted. "I was supposed to meet with my wife but I think I took a wrong turn, my phone lost signal so I kept walking to find a pay phone but they all seemed to magically disappear. I stumbled down here hoping to find some reception, found you instead." Jimmy told him.

In that moment it occurred to Dean to ask the other man for a favour as his thoughts turned to Sammy. It would be a small and meaningless task, if Jimmy didn't agree then he didn't care. Dean felt kind of bad asking Castiel's former vessel for a favour but shrugged it off in the end. Jimmy would forgive him. Well had to forgive him, he was a man of the Lord after all.

"Do me a favour?"

"Sure?" was the questioning response as Jimmy shook his head. Dean grabbed the salesman's hand with his and wrapped the amulet around his fingers.

"Find a guy called Sam Winchester, he's attending Stanford and has a wife called Jessica. Give that to him. Don't give him my name. Oh yeah, and tell the police I want my body to be cremated. I'll be damned if I'm gonna let anything worm its way into my corpse."

Jimmy looked at the man he was holding in his arms like he was insane but nodded nonetheless. He couldn't help but think that the Lord had brought him there for a reason. "Okay… okay, I promise. I'll find him and tell them. Stay with me." Jimmy pleaded; he really didn't want to see this man die.

"Thank you." Dean glanced up at Jimmy, locked eyes with him and let the stare linger; he imagined it was Castiel for one glorious moment then let his gaze fall toward the sky.

He fell silent, praying to the angel in his mind to watch over his family and to stay away from beige trench coats and Jimmy. Honestly the guy didn't need any crap in his life. Then, with one final caught breath and a fleeting smile, he let go.  
>hr<p>

Jimmy took the steps up to the Winchester residence apprehensively. He had no idea why he was there; the wish of a dying man he didn't know? Sure, as crazy as that sounded, in the end he felt like he needed to do this, for him, whoever he was. He was convinced he had been led down that alley for a reason. Jimmy knocked on the door and waited.

A tall, thin man with medium length brown hair answered with a smile. Jimmy could hear talking and laughing beyond the threshold. He looked at the other man with a slight cringe on his face and crinkled his eyebrows.

"Hi." He managed to get out, squashing his random nerves.

"Hi." The other male replied.

"My, err name is Jimmy and um… well. Okay…" He sighed and collected himself, trying to wipe his mind of the image of Dean dying in his arms. "Are you Sam?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm Sam, why? Am I in trouble?" Sam asked; the man before him looked like some official of the law with his tench coat and serious demeanour. Jimmy shook his head.

"I'm supposed to give this to you." He reached around his neck and took off the amulet.

Jimmy allowed himself once last glance at the small bronze mask and stretched out his hand toward the stranger. Sam looked confused; he glanced from the amulet to the man then back again but finally decided to take the object anyway. He turned it over in his hands and looked at it, really looked at it. It was strange, it felt like it should mean something to him, but it didn't. He had never seen it before in his life. Jimmy went to leave then, deciding his job was done. He made to turn but Sam stopped him.

"Wait. Who gave this to you?" he asked, looking and feeling distraught but not understanding why.

"He never told me his name," Jimmy lied, upholding Dean's dying wish. "Just that I needed to give that to you." Sam's gaze once again fell to the necklace.

"The person who gave you this, what happened to him?" Sam inquired; not knowing why but just feeling like he needed to know.

"He died." Jimmy frowned, Dean once again flashing before his eyes.

The man who apparently didn't exist in any database anywhere had been cremated and his ashes scattered, Jim had made sure of it. Officially he'd been given funerary rights as 'John Doe' and his remains were scattered at a lake.

"Thank you." Sam said.

"Not at all." Jimmy shot back and was gone.

Sam shut the door and fell against it, a heavy weight on his chest. He held the necklace up to eyelevel and stared at it, confused and yet somehow profoundly hurt. Suddenly he felt himself tearing up and for the life of him he didn't know why. Sam composed himself, deciding his reaction was silly, and walked back through the house to the kitchen where his family was gathered. Jessica was sitting at the dining table with Mary while John and Samuel were enjoying a beer together off to the side.

"Who was that?" John asked.

Sam shook his head. "Wrong house." He lied.

"So!" Mary smiled. "We need to decide on a name for this young Winchester-to-be. It's only two weeks to go now." The soon-to-be-grandmother patted her daughter-in-law on the shoulder, Jessica beamed.

"How about… Michael?" Jessica offered.

"Dean." Sam mumbled, his brow furrowed and eyes locked on something in the distance, something he couldn't see.

"What?" Mary asked.

"Dean." Sam spoke up, locking eyes with his wife. Her smile faded when she saw the look on his face, he appeared to be hurting but for what reason she couldn't fathom, Sam didn't even know himself.

"I like that name." John added, tipping his beer toward his son as if to emphasise his point.

"Dean Winchester." Mary rolled the name around in her head. "I like it." She smiled.

"Me too." Jessica said as she stood and approached her husband. She looked up and into his eyes silently questioning him but Sam had no answer for her.

"Dean..." Sam repeated quietly to himself. He fingered the necklace in his pocket, feeling its form. He should be happy, he had finally found a name for his son, really it was perfect, but then why did he feel so utterly gutted?

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><p>Thanks for reading loves. Do let me know if I should keep at this and or if you'd like some more, technically I only ever thought of this as a one shot.<p>

~ Revv


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